


Sunshine on a rainy day

by Giveusakiss4132



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU Meeting, Anal Fingering, Fingering, I Don't Even Know, I am so sorry, M/M, Medical Kink, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Sherlock loves butt stuff, Tumblr Prompt, Twink Sherlock, brollylock, butt stuff, gay babies on land, improper lube, jesus take the wheel, please help me, tumblr is satan, umbrella kink, umbrella stimulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2015-06-14
Packaged: 2018-04-04 07:26:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4129651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Giveusakiss4132/pseuds/Giveusakiss4132
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brollylock tumblr prompt. Mycroft's umbrella/Sherlock's butt. </p><p>When Sherlock Holmes comes to the A&E with an object stuck in his behind, Doctor Watson must help him. </p><p>Things get a little… unprofessional.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunshine on a rainy day

**Author's Note:**

> Seriously, someone take away my tumblr account. Which is Giveusakiss413, should you wish to follow me.

“No, I swear to you, it was a light bulb,” Mel swore.

 

“Not possible, not possible, physically. It’d shatter, yeah?” Came Alice’s sleepy voice, half lost in the sofa cushion. 

 

“Well maybe, only he didn’t clench. Kept tellin’ him, mate, jus’ relax. It’ll be alright,” Mel announced grandly. He nodded firmly to John. “That’s the trick, yeah Johnny? Just relax,” everyone snickered.

 

“Not much of a bottom, ta ever so Mel. But yes, relaxing is always helpful.” John said, nodding. He was in his third year of residency, and lording his months of experience over the new doctors. They were crowded around him in a circle, John lounging on the most comfortable chair. 

 

“Never much understood why people shove things up their arses,” moaned Alice, in the tone of someone who had taken one too many odd objects out of a man’s rectum. “Had an entire bunch of grapes once. They’d gone all squishy because he was too embarrassed to come to us for nearly a week. Blocked him up, and I said,” she snorted with exhausted laughter, “I said, ‘well we can give you a laxative and try that way, we can put you under and scoop em out, or- ha!- we can wait til they turn to raisins. Bit more manageable that way.” The crowed dissolved into sleep deprived laughter. 

 

John’s pager interrupted the merriment and he groaned, lifting himself up. “That’s my chair if I’m not scrubbing in,” he said forcefully. 

 

He strode over to the head nurse, reluctantly. He’d gotten on her bad side his first week in, and only just stopped getting the back of her temper. Always be kind to the nurses. Always. “Nurse Robbins, what can I do for you?” He made sure to keep his tone the picture of respectful. 

 

“Some twink’s comin’ in, with an umbrella shoved up his arse.” John blinked. Twice. “‘Swot the paramedic said. He’s givin’ all sortsa trouble. Room 5,” Nurse Robbins said, with no small amount of glee. 

 

Not forgiven then. 

 

****

 

“Just try to relax, Sir,” John pleaded. Beautiful sea green eyes met his, glaring harshly. 

 

“Oh relax? Relax, now why didn’t I think of that? You’ve obviously earned your medical degree. How clever, just relax,” the boy bit out.

 

John swallowed, and closed his eyes. Counted to ten. “Let’s try squatting again?”

 

The boy drew himself up with dignity. “I shall not!”

 

Jesus Christ. 

 

“Look, why don’t we ring your parents and see-”

 

“I’m not a child!” the boy barked. 

 

“No?” John asked. He looked a bit young. 

 

“No,” the boy growled. 

 

“Still, if you’d like, um, your partner to be here?”

 

“God no,” he sighed “look, I can try squatting but I already did that. It’s stuck. You saw the scan,” he said miserably. 

 

John had indeed saw the scan. A traditional tapered umbrella, black, being squeezed half to death inside this man’s anal cavity. The problem was, the young man couldn’t relax. John glanced at his chart. Huh. Twenty three. Not a boy, then. 

 

“Look, Sherlock, it’s perfectly okay. We all experiment, there’s nothing for you to be ashamed about-”

 

“I’m hardly ashamed!” The bright pink on Sherlock’s cheeks said otherwise. 

 

“Perfectly healthy to be curious about your body and it’s reactions to different stimulus. But you really do need to relax. I’m hesitant to put you under for something like this. It’s honestly not such a bad job, as objects go. Still has the handle, good steady grip, see,” John gave a slight tug. The umbrella didn’t move so much as shift, and Sherlock went still, and gasped, then flushed. 

 

“Er, sorry, sorry about that,” John stammered. Pretty eyes glared back at him, pupils blow slightly wider than before. 

 

“It’s um. It’s a nice sturdy object, good shape. You’ve just stretched yourself too far. Here, let’s try and get you to relax.” John chucked his gloves pulled out his phone, and the soothing sounds of the ocean and bird calls filled the private room. 

 

“Are you joking?!” Sherlock hissed. 

 

“You’ll be surprised how well music relaxes a person. Trust me, I’m a doctor.” John winked, putting on a fresh pair of gloves. “What lubrication did you use?”

 

“Ah, spit, bit of oil.” 

 

“Christ. No wonder you’re tensed up. Look, if you’re going to do this again- first wait at least a week. Invest in an object or two made for anal penetration, a plug, a vibrator. There’s loads of options that are much safer than household items. And for God’s sake, use real lube. Or coconut oil, if you’re fussy. Spit isn’t enough, and olive oil is for cooking, not sex. Understood?”

 

“Yes,” came the sullen reply. 

 

“Good. Right, let’s try some vaseline.” John tutted when he saw Sherlock’s hole. He was pink and twitchy, obviously not used to such a large intrusion. John spread the vaseline over his fingers, and rubbed softly over Sherlock’s anus and perineum.

 

“Oh, oh!” Sherlock said softly, and wriggled back, toward’s John’s fingers. 

“Steady on, Sherlock,” John said, grinning at the glare he received. 

 

He rubbed a little more, trying to loosen him enough that pulling the umbrella out wouldn’t damage him. He managed to get a finger in alongside the umbrella, and spread lube everywhere he could reach. 

 

Sherlock’s breath hitched, and he wriggled even closer, and the umbrella moved, a few centimeters out. Sherlock was relaxing. “Good, that’s good. You’re doing so well,” John said, and cleared his throat. He’d gone a bit husky for some reason. 

 

“Here now, let’s relax a bit more, shall we?” John managed to get his finger deeper, shifting the umbrella slightly and Sherlock gave a sharp cry. 

 

“Please!”

 

“Please? Please what?” John asked, and shifted the umbrella minutely. 

 

“Please, Doctor Watson. Do that? Do that again, more?” The boy was the picture of politeness, all dark curls and wide eyes and pouting lips. 

 

Well. John did take a vow to help all those in need. 

 

And Sherlock Holmes was certainly in need. 

 

John worked the umbrella in small motions, adding lube by the finger-fulls until Sherlock was working the umbrella with only his muscles, tensing and releasing, relaxing more and more, sloppy with lube and sweat. He was panting into his pillow, fingers clenched on the sheets. “Please please please Doctor. Please?” He panted. 

 

“Shhh, it’s alright. I’ll help you, look at you, helping me. You’re doing so well, you’re going to work that umbrella out all by yourself, aren’t you Sherlock? Aren’t you? You’re going to be so strong and show me how well you can take it, how much you can take. Good boy, Sherlock. That’s a good boy,” John coaxed, words spilling out of him as he watched the umbrella move back and forth, in and out. 

“Yes,” Sherlock panted. “I’ll show you, I will.”

 

“You are showing me, you’re doing so well. Do you want some help?” Sherlock was moving the umbrella was greater force. Clamping down and releasing just powerfully, squeezing the object. Sherlock nodded frantically. 

 

“Good, that’s lovely. We’re going to get this out now,” John touched lightly on Sherlock’s perineum and felt the umbrella shake with Sherlock’s clamping down. When he started to relax John cooed “good, stay open for me. Relax, go on. Be good for me, be a good boy,” and Sherlock slumped, relaxing almost automatically. John pulled carefully and with a wet sound the umbrella pulled free and was tossed on the floor. 

 

Sherlock looked back at him, wide eyed and desperate. “Please please?” he begged, and John stood there, lost for a moment. “Please?” it was almost a sob. John had sworn an oath. Sherlock needed his attention. 

 

John gave him three of his glove clad fingers and Sherlock howled into the pillow when John twitched them up and found his prostate. He massaged him lightly, knowing how tender, how sensitive Sherlock was bound to be. 

 

His patient came, with shaking gasps, all over the hospital sheets, lasting nearly a minute. He slumped onto the bed, exhausted. 

 

John stripped Sherlock’s hospital gown and sheets into the laundry, and remade the bed, practically around the half asleep man. “Doctor?” his sleepy voice said.

 

“You can call me John, you know.”

 

“John. That was. That thing that you did. It was, um. Good. It was good.”

 

“Hm, well. I think you’ll need to stay overnight, actually. For observation,” John said, checking his forehead with a smile. It was sweaty and fresh smelling. 

 

“Oh?” Sherlock perked up.

 

“Oh yes, in my professional opinion. You need to stay at least overnight.”

 

“Yes Doctor.” Sherlock said, with a sweet smile.


End file.
